Whispers to the Moon
by AGENT Kuma-chan
Summary: There is a point between then and now, here and there, and she has to stand fast or she'll be dragged away. -Yuuki, on Kaname, Zero, and choices


**Title:** Whispers to the Moon  
**Day/Theme**: August 7 / no longer burdened by what's left behind  
**Pairings:** Yuuki-centric, hints of Zero/Yuuki, Kaname/Yuuki  
**A/N: **This has some mentions of latest chapters.  
**Summary:** _There is a point between then and now, here and there, and she has to stand fast or she'll be dragged away._

...

i.  
"No," she whispers to herself, "No."

ii.

Yuuki likes to walk the halls in the night. They are silent, empty, and she is nothing more than a passing wind. Faint moonbeams shine in through the clear crystal glass and she takes care to step around the windows on the floor.

Even now, it hurts to see the silver light. They tangle her in a web of messy dreams and wishes.

_Don't go. _She sometimes whispers those words. She whispers and listens to the irony because in the end, she is the one who left.

iii.

Kaname doesn't know of her strange love-affair with the moon. She sometimes goes out in the day, an umbrella in hand, and tends to the garden. Her (brother, friend,) lover stares through the open door, a smile lighting his face.

"I didn't know you liked gardening so much," he mentions, his voice a strange organ of love and concern. "I would have increased its size had I known."

"It seems fun," Yuuki responds, her hands covered in dirt and small twigs. "Besides, I like this better. This small size, it's more cozy."

He laughs when she falls backwards, the plant slipping out of her hands.

The weed remains, nestled between the lilacs and delphiniums.

iii.

Kaname's hands are kind. They gently pull her closer, travelling the expanse of her body. Carefully, always so carefully and hesitantly, as though he is afraid she'll vanish in smoke, he touches her.

She loves that about him. She loves the way he undresses her and the way he quickly kisses her before he leaves to attend his duties. When he's home, his kisses are slow and powerful, as though he is still the predator and she is the prey.

Yuuki attempts, in her own way, to show some sort of strength. She is no longer Yuuki Cross (the girl who lived with Zero and Cross and only dreamed of this day), but Yuuki Kuran, a pure-blood vampire. She can hold her own.

Kaname chuckles at her methods but nothing changes in this equation.

iv.

"No," she tells the moon, hiding from its brilliance, "No."

v.

That's it, she thinks, that's it. Put a little confidence in each step, keep those hands firm, and it's done.

And it is, in more ways than one.

Zero doesn't seem as crumbly as she feels. This is their first meeting in a year and he doesn't let any turmoil show. The only thing he cares about now is the fact that her hand (pureblood, not human, never human) touched his.

A smile covers her face. (That's it, that's it, she's fine, she doesn't care, not anymore)

And with that, she steps back. Steps out and back and away before the tears come.

(They won't come. She won't cry because she has Kaname and he is enough.)

-x-

In a drawer, she folds up the glove, carefully placing it between her school uniform.

The next night she wanders, she carefully pulls it close to her nose, trying to find a scent that is no longer there.

vi.

Zero is still Zero, still strong as an ox and honour-bound. She smells him, smells all that is (was) her childhood friend. Smells all that's changed.

It still makes her heart ache.

His body seems a little thinner, if anything. Though his arms are just as lean and his shoulder is just as broad, his shirt doesn't fit him like it used to.

And perhaps that is her fault. She left him, without a _thank you_ or _I love you_ or anything of the sort. Only told him to be the cat and her the mouse and condemned them to this never-ending chase.

Now, it is time for her to keep the game going and escape. Out the window, back to Kaname, and she doesn't want to turn around and face him.

So she does, takes in those cold eyes and lost smiles.

This is something she has to acknowledge. She changed him, even if it was only partially her fault.

This is something else she has to acknowledge: they can never be together. His grudge is too large to bear her, and she owes Kaname too much to ever leave him.

She leaves once more without admitting a thing.

vii.

"No," she faces the mirror, ignoring the tear slipping down her face, "I can't."

viii.

The silver moon stares at her, admonishing her. It takes all her courage to not jump out of its path.

Yuuki likes to walk through the garden in the full moon, to see its many faceted reflections in the dew drops. Kaname doesn't know of this either; she only does it when he's away.

She walks carefully along the stone paths, each foot landing firmly on one before moving to the next. When she reaches a fork, she always turns right, and the number of circles she made remains unknown.

"It won't do," she mutters to the wind, the flowers, the heavenly bodies. "It just won't do." Her hair ruffles in the breeze.

There should be someone else here, someone for her to say it to, but she makes do with the garden sculptures.

That person shouldn't be here anyways.

ix.

"Do you ever regret this?" Kaname asks, less frequently as time passes. He doesn't look at her each time, preferring not to see the truth head on.

To say 'no' would be a lie-she misses her scolding teacher, eating lunch with Sayori, detention with Zero. Cross pouts when he wants something and there are no trips to the market.

There are no sarcastic remarks or teasing words, no wounded words or hurt eyes.

She misses them, misses _him_, and she would be lying if she said otherwise.

However, this is what she wanted back then. This is currently what she still wants. This warm smile, this nervous voice, these loving eyes.

They are not everything, and they will never be. She still wakes up, thinking Cross is going to make breakfast, that those dark strands are silver, that those soft touches are passionate and firm.

They are still enough for this present and she wouldn't be lying if she says that this is what she can live with.

She made a decision after all and she must stand by it.

x.

"No," she tells the moon, tells herself, tells the boy (man) who isn't here to hear it, tells the heart that is slowly breaking, "I can't love you anymore. I won't and I can't and that's it."


End file.
